Me, the serial negative self-talker
Sometimes I speak to myself the way I’d speak to a person who’d done something unfathomably heinous—molested a child, committed a hate crime, something like that. I’m usually reprimanding myself for losing my keys or saying something regretable. Both things I do a lot, among a meriad of other scatterbrained and clumsy acts. I’ll be all like, what the fuck is wrong with you, Brittany? Or, you’re always doing shit like this. Or, how did you let another strawberry plant die, BRIT-TA-NY?
Lately I’ve been imagining if I spoke to someone else that way. Someone who hadn’t done something heinous. Like, what if a friend had a slip of the tongue in a conversation and I responded with, “get your head out of your ass.” That’d be pretty ridiculous and mean and I’d never want a friend to feel so belittled for something so insignificant.
Unfortunately I have dealt with people who have spoken to me and other people harshly. There’s a certain type of person whose mode of being is to shame other people to feel better about themselves. A coping mechanism that I’d argue is worse than negative self-talk (but maybe they do both?). It’s not always verbal. Sometimes they roll their eyes. Or they’ll say, “okay…” and slowly turn away with an expression like you’re batshit crazy. Or they’ll constantly speak over you, like what they have to say is a billion times smarter and more relevant. These people blow weiners.
Maybe my internalized sense of shame and negative self-talk is how I learned to survive in a harsh world as a sensitive person. Or maybe I have deep, dark shameful secrets that make me an inherently evil and unlovable person, making the way I talk to myself appropriate. You may never know.
Either way, I’d like to free myself from this way of thinking. I’d like to feel okay with making mistakes. They truly are a way to learn, as goddamn cliche as that sounds.